


The Experiment

by lrose20



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M, Martin has a thing for Herc's voice, Voice Kink, so does the author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 20:10:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lrose20/pseuds/lrose20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin's learnt over the years to not get all hot and bothered by Douglas' voice. The same cannot be said for the voice of Hercules Shipwright.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Experiment

Martin couldn’t deny that Douglas had a brilliant voice. Sultry, deep, powerful, it was enough to make any woman, and plenty a man’s knees tremble. The older Martin got the less he cared about the gender of his partner, and one would have imagined that Douglas Richardson’s voice would have him squirming like a school boy. However, Martin had learned early on to ignore the richness and seduction of Douglas’ voice, managed to control his libido; it was the only way he could function in the flight deck. As such, after all that time flying with Douglas, it no longer affected him. That voice only made him think of sarcasm and flight times and word games.

Hercules Shipwright was another matter entirely. When Martin had first met Herc, he noticed a few things. One, how much like and yet unlike Douglas he was, and two, that the man had a voice that could rival Douglas’ for syrup, and none of the helpful flight deck association to help Martin ignore it.   
Fortunately, Martin rarely saw Herc, and never had to fear that he would use his voice against Martin, unlike Douglas who would have almost certainly leapt at the chance. Martin felt sure that Hercules was too busy doing...whatever he was doing with Carolyn to ever notice the way his voice affected Martin.  
Unfortunately, Martin had underestimated how much like Douglas, Herc really was.

The door to the portacabin opened and Martin didn’t bother looking up. He figured it was Douglas, come back to tease him or pick up something he’d forgotten. Not wanting to be distracted from his log, he continued to write, his head bowed and his shoulders a bit tense. He continued to write until a voice greeted him that was most certainly not Douglas’.

“Why, good evening Martin.” Martin blinked and straightened up, tingles racing down his spine. He slowly turned, to see that Herc Shipwright was indeed standing behind him, wearing his uniform.

“Hercules-” Martin began, before he was cut off by a shake of a head and a smirk.

“Please, call me Herc.” Martin was unable to fight back the pink flush that stained his face as he nodded.

“Right, sorry...Herc.” He felt his cheeks become warmer and he looked back down at his log book, hoping the other man did not notice. 

“So, what’re you doing here so late, Captain Crieff?” Herc asked, casually leaning against the desk beside Martin. 

“Just...filling out some things,” Martin answered, motioning vaguely to the papers in front of him. “What about you?”

“Oh, just flew in. Overnighting in a little hotel nearby. First Officer Richardson didn’t stay to keep you company?”

Martin laughed without any real mirth and shook his head head. “Douglas wouldn’t stay with me, not when there’s so many stewardesses to pick up.”

“Ah, well then, he’s a fool. If I were Douglas, I’d stay,”Herc added, taking off his pilot’s hat and setting it down on a chair.

“Would you?” Martin asked, trying to not lose focus. 

“Mm, I would. And do you know what I’d do if I stayed, Captain Crieff?”

Martin kept his gaze focused, shaking his head. “No.”

“Because unlike Douglas, sky god he may be, I recognize a gem when I see one. And you, my dear Captain Crieff, are a diamond in the rough.”  
Martin blinked, his hand pausing mid stream, the pen actually slipping from his fingers, although neither pilot seemed to noise the noise it made as it fell onto the desk. 

“A what?” Martin repeated hesitantly. 

Herc smirked, leaning in closer. “ A gem, Captain. A catch. A find,” Herc enunciated each word with relish. Martin blinked again, and then pushed the wheeled chair backwards, away from Herc. 

“Do you have a bet on with Douglas?”

Hercules raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Well, that’s the only explanation. You come in here, and say all these...these things...there’s only one explanation. What are the stakes this time?” Martin asked, trying to keep the derision out of his voice. 

Herc stared at him for another moment, and then he began to chuckle, shaking his head.  
“Oh, dear, sweet, Martin. You actually think that I...” he shook his head, his laughter subsiding, and he stepped closer to Martin.  
“I assure you, there is no bet. I’m here because I wanted to test an experiment.”

Martin’s brow furrowed and he folded his arms across his chest. “Oh, yes? What type of experiment?”

“Well,” Herc began silkily, and Martin realized that somewhere in the course of this discussion Hercules had removed his jacket. “I have a theory, Martin. Would you like to hear it?” he asked, his lips quirking. 

Martin rolled his eyes ever so slightly, unable to resist taking the bet. “What theory?” he prompted, exasperation coloring his voice.

“That my voice gets you rather hot and bothered,” Herc purred.

Martin froze, the tension from his exasperation changing into tension from something else entirely. “Wha-No,it’s-”

“But I decided I needed more concrete proof,” Herc continued, purposely not responding to Martin’s flustered stuttering. 

“Hercules...” Martin began, his voice weak, as he unconsciously gnawed on his lower lip.

Herc now stood behind him, next to his ear, as he breathed, “So how about it, Captain Crieff? Care to help me test my theory?”

“Hnngh,” was the only sound that Martin managed to make, and he felt hot air on his ear as Herc chuckled softly.  
“Mm, I’ll put that down as a yes?”  
Martin was barely able to nod, but that seemed good enough for Herc. “Excellent” The captain drew the t out, and Martin forced back a groan that threatened to escape his lips.  
“No, don’t hold it in. Let me hear what my voice does to you. In fact...tell me, Martin, what does it do to you?”  
Martin hesitated, gulping in air and biting harder into his poor lip. “Go on,” Herc encouraged him.   
“I want to hear you,” he deepened his voice on the last two syllables, the sound wrapping around Martin like velvet, and he whimpered, his neck beginning to flush. 

“It’s so....deep,” Martin said, his voice weak and hoarse. “It’s...Oh God, I can’t-” He shook his head, burying his face in his hands.

“Can’t do it? Then let me help you,” Herc said sweetly, slowly stepping around Martin and over to his other ear. “My voice is so deep, it feels like it’s in your very blood. It’s creeping through you, seeping into your skin. It’s wrapping itself around your ear, down your cheek, onto those delectable lips of yours. Those sweet lips, already so nice, would look even nicer around someone’s cock...wouldn’t you agree, Martin?”

“I...I don’t-”

“More specifically, mine.” Martin groaned rather loudly at that, his whole face flushed now, and he shakily nodded.   
“Yes?” Herc prompted, his voice a low croon.

“Yes,” Martin said. 

“Well then, Captain Crieff, I have a new experiment in mind...seeing if I can make you come from just my voice while you suck me off. Care to help?”


End file.
